First of December – A Cup of Tea

Of all the places Eren has come to visit over the years, this café is one of his favourites.

He sits in front of a small, wooden table, the window front to his left, the simple, plain letters painted on it not really obscuring his view to the busy street outside.

woɿɿɒqƧ
ɘɿoM & ɒɘT

Of course tea is not the only thing this business runs on. Or what draws in the most customers. It's the coffee. The varieties of cake offered alongside the beverages only add to the popularity.

The café isn't spacious. Just big enough to provide a tranquil and almost homelike atmosphere. Seven small tables with two to three chairs each. A brass counter with four wooden bar stools. Two snug nooks with a pair of cosy, dark red corduroy seats each, and a small coffee table between them. A staff department in the back, including a tiny kitchen, and an additional storage compartment. A tiny bathroom. A door with a subsequent staircase leading up to a flat. Levi's flat.

According to Hanji who helped with the renovating and furnishing, the ground floor area was a vacant glazier when Levi moved in. It's almost hard to believe. The daily hustle and bustle plus the rich presence of polishing wax, coffee, and tea in the air has long become all Levi. At least to Eren.

Flowery scents rise from the cup before him. His eyes are drawn to the lazy patterns of steam that dissipate gently in the warm lamplight. As usual, Eren let Levi serve him whatever he deemed fit, and today's choice, Jasmine tea, is welcome and relaxing.

People pass by the window, hurrying through the frosty evening, their hands buried in pockets. Their noses nuzzled into scarfs. A cold snap has hit their community hard.

Every once in a while the door opens with a bright tinkle of a bell to let in, or dismiss, the last customers of the day. Each chime is accompanied by a gust of the icy wind that's blowing through the streets.

The world outside is dark already, tinted black apart from the spots of light by the street lanterns. It's closing time.

As with every evening, Eren lets his gaze wander over the emptying café. There are a couple of shelves laden with tea and supplies such as pots, sieves, sand glasses, thermometers, and sealed cans of coffee beans. The items are accompanied by drawings that decorate the walls, most of them impressions of this place. The exception is a frame on the wall behind the counter that shows a sunset over endless water. Three figures are standing on a small strip of sanded beach; one of them pointing at something far away.

Though Eren mocked Jean for sitting in the dunes with his sketch book, instead of coming down to the water with them that day, every time he sees the picture now, he is glad for the recorded moment. He can't bring himself to miss the traveling, but sometimes he still hears the waves and the birds. Feels the salty wind and the soft, wet sand under his naked feet.

He wonders where Armin is now. They haven't heard from the Exploration Team since the beginning of their return trip three months ago.

Levi places a plate of food before him, interrupting Eren's thoughts. It's a piece of apple pie with a small heap of clotted cream.

Eren suppresses a dismissive sigh.

"Eat," Levi instructs whilst collecting the empty mugs and plates from a nearby table. He wipes the wooden surface and goes back behind the counter, completely ignoring Eren's exasperated scowl.

As always, the scowl fades with the first forkful of pastry. Buttery pie crust with sweet, cooked apples, cinnamon, and soft cream crumbles in Eren's mouth, soothes his growling stomach, and eases his fatigue. Now the sigh, a happy one this time, escapes his lips.

Taking another bite, he listens to the door of the shop being locked. The sign in its window is being flipped over from 'open' to 'closed', and the experienced movements of the end of a day fill the room. Tables get wiped, chairs are rearranged and put up, the floor is mopped, and ultimately the till opens with a ring as Levi counts the day's takings. Eren knows better than to offer his help. Instead he collects the last few crumbs of his cake with his index finger to savour their vitalising taste.

Soon he hears the telling sound of running water—hands being washed, the kettle being refilled—and Eren knows Levi has arrived at his own, private way of clocking off.

When he emerges from behind the counter to join Eren at the table, he has taken off his apron. It's like he's the old soldier again, although lacking the harness and tie. Running a café instead of his own Special Operation Squad hasn't changed Levi much. Despite his foot, he's still moving in the same old effortless manner. He still has the same, tired bruises under his eyes too. Yet there is an air of balance surrounding him these days that the war denied them all.

He puts his own cup of tea next to Eren's, and sits down, facing him. "You need to take better care of yourself. Don't they feed you in the Military anymore?"

"I wasn't that hungry," Eren grumbles to his defense, knowing what will come.

Sure enough, there's the lifted, sharp eyebrow directed at his crumb-free plate and then at him. Apart from that Levi lets it slide for now. He leans back on his chair, one leg resting on his other knee, the steam of his tea catching on his palm as he lifts the cup.

Taking a sip of his own tea, Eren welcomes the familiar stillness settling between them, like a blanket on the world. It's been like this ever since he began to frequent the Sparrow a year ago. Eren supposes there's a strange comfort in their unuttered routine. It reminds him of the better parts of their service together. Shared vigils, weapon maintenance, and evenings spent with chess or paperwork and a pot of tea. Years of fighting side by side welded them together. By the end of the war Eren found himself spending more time with Levi than with Armin and Mikasa. They have become friends, and Eren cherishes their friendship more than his fifteen year old self could ever have imagined when they'd met.

On the other hand, his fifteen year old self could never have imagined a lot of things. Like being a Titan, for one. Or being assigned to Squad Levi right after Military Training. Or finding out how Levi's kisses taste like in a moment of downright stupidity. Followed by even more stupidity and a night Eren wishes to erase from his memory altogether. Not that it was a bad memory. Quite on the contrary. Nonetheless, Eren knows his impulsive behaviour nearly cost him Levi's friendship.

He frowns and drowns that final thought with his last bit of tea. If that night had been bad, it probably would be easier to forget. Fact is, no matter how good, he doesn't want to think about it. Not now, not ever. Still, the images keep on coming back to him in a constant stream, and he's learnt to shove them right back into a faraway corner of his mind before they can do more harm.

"Dinner?" Levi asks rhetorically, entirely oblivious to Eren's inner turmoil.

Eren nods. "Sure."

Taking his empty cup and Eren's plate with him, Levi disappears into the back room. Meanwhile Eren checks the table top for tidiness and arranges their chairs as he knows they should be, before following with his own, empty cup.

In the staff department Levi already has his hands deep in steamy, soapy dishwater. His forearm is covered with tiny crackling bubbles as he reaches for Eren's used cup to add it to the water. A faint smile ghosts over his eyes when Eren takes the tea towel from a nearby hook without having to be asked.

They work without words, dishes passing hands, until the sink is empty and Levi wipes it dry.

"You checked the table?" Levi asks before opening the bottom stair door.

Endeared by the question, Eren grins. Levi's sense for order clearly hasn't abated one bit ever since he left the military. "I did."

"Let's go then."

As always when he enters Levi's flat, Eren is welcomed by the scent of soap and tea. He stealthily drags in a deep breath of the reassuring scent. The comforting effect sets in immediately. He seizes it, mentally wrapping it around himself while slipping out of his boots, coat, and military jacket. Despite his worry of maybe intruding with his constant presence, Eren has long given up on even trying to keep his feet from coming back every single night. No other place offers this deep feeling of ease, the same kind of refuge. It has always been this way with Levi. Nothing has changed that.

With unspoken understanding they meet in the kitchen. While Eren brews another pot of tea, Levi begins to prepare dinner. It's nothing fancy on workdays, mostly buttered bread and cheese, occasionally a soup. Sometimes potatoes. Every now and then, Levi is supplied with fresh game or cured ham from the local hunter Arne.

Today Levi mumbles something about spoiling eggs, and fetches the nearly empty mushroom basket, alongside some garlic, and herbs to make omelettes. Smiling, Eren reaches for the thyme to pick the leaves from the stems while Levi diligently brushes the mushrooms free of any remaining sand. Levi likes omelette. They both do, actually.

After eating they fetch the chessboard and move over into a pair of armchairs in front of the fireplace. The overstuffed leather-clad piece of furniture that Levi has wordlessly offered to Eren is the only piece of real luxury in this flat and if it weren't for Hanji Levi wouldn't have it in the first place. Gleefully pronouncing it as "'the old man chair," she gave it to him for his retirement, telling him to "rest his arse for once in his life."

In spite of the rather grumbled acceptance when he received it, Levi loves the chair. The obvious signs of usage alone, like the faintly shiny seat cushion, a certain familiar scent that mingles with the leather, the neatly folded blanket on its armrest, and its position right next to hearth, are proof enough, and Eren agrees. The chair is a gift of cosiness, immediately moulding itself to the shape of whoever rests down in it. Sinking into the soft, comforting embrace, Eren snuggles into it, slipping into a half tailor seat with one foot tucked under his drawn in leg. He folds his hands and rests them on his knee, his chin on top, while Levi sits down in one of the same dark red corduroy seats like he has downstairs.

"I heard the Scouts will come back in a few days," Levi says after a few rounds, moving one of his knights over the chessboard on the coffee table between them.

With a rush of anticipation spreading through his veins, Eren straightens up in his seat. "They will?"

Levi nods. "Apparently they found another ocean."

"Another ocean?" Armin must be happy then. "I didn't know that yet."

"I know. That's why I'm telling you."

He's long given up on the question how Levi always knows. Admittedly, most of his customers are soldiers, or used to be soldiers at some point. Hanji visits whenever she can spare a few moments for her caffeine fix, but still. Eren spends his work hours at the Survey Corps base every day, apart from weekends, and mostly even then. If news has been going around, he should have heard them before Levi. Why hasn't Hanji told him at lunch?

"Hanji just got the message this afternoon," Levi explains, as if he could have read Eren's thoughts.

"Oh." He nods. "Are they…" Searching for words, he lets the rest of the question hang in the air, not really able to finish it. And he doesn't have to.

"They're all alright," Levi says. "A few cases of fever, a few more serious ones of sniffles, and one broken arm because some glorious fool climbed up a tree and fell down. Nothing worse."

Eren exhales, relieved, and then catches the hint of affection in Levi's insult. "Connie?" he asks.

"Connie," Levi confirms.

Eren snorts. Some things never seem to change. Too often has he seen Connie climb trees and struggle for balance. Sasha always finds it utterly ridiculous how he can handle his 3D maneuver gear perfectly, yet can not stand on a steady branch without wobbling.

Grinning at the memory of his friends, Eren shakes his head and reaches for his remaining bishop, hoping it will be a good move.

"No." Levi says, a moment before Eren's fingers have reached the figure.

"No?"

"No."

It's merely a suggestion, but Eren still glances up with a questioning frown before looking back at the chessboard to see what he missed.

He stops, checks his tactic, and moves a long forgotten pawn.

"Better," Levi agrees.

"As in 'good'?" Eren asks hopefully.

Levi's lips curl slightly. "We'll see."

While Levi ponders over his next move, Eren leans back into the soft leather with his tea and observes him over his cup.

At some point during the evening, Levi has undone the top button of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, the faintest of frowns knits his eyebrows in concentration, and the warm glow of the fire conceals the slight greying of his hair completely. The difference is so small that even in bright sunlight Eren can hardly see it, but he knows it's there. A faint shift from pitch black to slightly shiny ebony. Not really silver, not even iron, but not quite as dark as it once was anymore either.

He looks so calm that Eren can't help but seize some of it for himself.

When Levi leans over the chessboard again to make his move, there's a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes, and Eren has an uneasy sense of what's coming.

"Check."

Eren sighs. "Why do I keep on playing with you again?" he teases.

"Because you love it," Levi replies.

"Yeah, right."

Seemingly not irritated by the scoff, Levi knowingly smirks into his tea, and Eren chews on his lip as he tries to refocus on his prior strategy.

Perhaps, if he moves the other pawn, he maybe could turn this game around after all…

He gives himself a push and makes his leap of faith. They've always been the cause for his worst mistakes, but perhaps this time might be different.

Somehow, the dream always starts the same. It never starts in the forest. No.

It always starts in the fog.

Someone is screaming.

Eren knows the voice all too well. He has heard it sneering way too often to not know it, has heard it huff, and laugh, and snicker, and yell into his face too. The voice screams Armin's name, and Eren has to help. So he runs. He knows that this isn't real. He also knows what will come next. It happens like this every time.

The world goes black for a moment, pain free yet cold. Then, with a blink, the woods appear.

By now he's been here so often, that he's stopped counting. He's been here often enough to know that he won't wake up until he's seen every little bit of it.

The wood fills his lungs. Sun heated soil, resin, and fir needles press in on him, make his blood go heavy, his throat tight.

His heart beats frantically against his ribs, and Levi is looking at him, demanding a choice. Friends are riding besides him, waiting for him to do something. He doesn't know what. He never knows what to do. Never knows what is right. He must be stupid.

Four scars on hands holding reins around him. He clutches his own reins, stubbornly looks ahead, and makes his decision. There is a short second of loud pangs, followed by cries of victory. In his dream, he doesn't cheer. He's scared. He know what will come.

A terrifying howl. Titans. So many Titans.

Retreat. Sticking to the formation as trained so many times.

A Transformation. Four horrible, sickening cracks echoing through the woods. Four of his friends dead. Snapped, only to be thrown away like meaningless twigs. All because of him.

Rage. Pure rage seething within him. Quick movements, fighting, being trapped. Blackness.

Waking up in Levi's arms and looking at death before falling right back into blackness.

Waking up in his bed in the here and now, sweating all over. Heart racing, and fighting back the bile. No matter how long that specific day has been over, no matter how many years have passed since then, he guesses it will torment him until the end of time. He swallows too sweet saliva. Swallows again. The bile keeps on rising.

As he hurries to the bathroom to throw up, he can't fight back the thought that he deserves it.